


Sloppy Seconds

by thegrimshapeofyoursmile



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Drinking, Everyone Has Issues, F/F, F/M, M/M, Modern AU, Sex, Swearing, roadtrip au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2182593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrimshapeofyoursmile/pseuds/thegrimshapeofyoursmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You take care of your siblings, right?” Leandra asks for the tenth time and still looks worried.</p><p>“Sure,” Garrett says. He is twenty-one and Carver and Bethany are eighteen, but somehow his mother never realized that they have grown up. </p><p>He scratches his chin and decides to grow a beard, just like father used to have.</p><p>&&&</p><p>It’s the trip of their lives, or so they planned, so of course eveyone else is there as well.<br/>Isabela is the first one to climb into the VW bus Hawke took out of the garage specifically for this occasion. She squeezes herself between Carver and Bethany just to make Carver flush and squirm in embarassment with her enormous cleavage before she climbs into the seat next to Hawke. She only has a single bag with her; always traveling light, his girl, ready to leave whenever necessary. </p><p>//////</p><p>Hawke and his friends go on a roadtrip. Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sloppy Seconds

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Watsky's "Sloppy Seconds", which is perfect background music for this. As always, dedicated to my girl.

“You take care of your siblings, right?” Leandra asks for the tenth time and still looks worried.

“Sure,” Garrett says. He is twenty-one and Carver and Bethany are eighteen, but somehow his mother never realized that they have grown up. 

He scratches his chin and decides to grow a beard, just like father used to have.

&&&

It’s the trip of their lives, or so they planned, so of course eveyone else is there as well.  
Isabela is the first one to climb into the VW bus Hawke took out of the garage specifically for this occasion. She squeezes herself between Carver and Bethany just to make Carver flush and squirm in embarassment with her enormous cleavage before she climbs into the seat next to Hawke. She only has a single bag with her; always traveling light, his girl, ready to leave whenever necessary. 

“Hey, honey,” She says and Bethany giggles behind her.

“It’s funny, you know,” she says when Isabela turns and raises a questioning brow at her. “We always call him big honey bee.”

“Lovely,” Isabela says and grins.

“You call him that,” Carver mutters in the general direction of his twin and sinks deeper into the seat. 

&&&

Carver starts complaining about Sirius’s slobber only after they picked up Anders, Fenris and Varric and is immediately backed up by Anders.

The result is that Fenris goes forward to the seat next to Hawke’s and has to take the map after starting a fight with Anders that almost caused Hawke to drive into the next wall. Anders and Carver are allowed to sit in the row directly behind hawke because it is the farthest away from the trunk where Sirius is sitting between their luggage and whining, his tail a rhythmic staccato on the floor of the bus. Of course, Bethany climbs into the second row as well because Anders is there, leaving Isabela and Varric in the second row.

Hawke thinks that his only mistake so far was that he did not pick up Aveline first. 

&&&

It takes them a while to realize that Fenris cannot read.

&&&

Merrill and Aveline wait for them in front of Aveline’s and Wesley’s flat. Merrill waves at them, clad in a flowy, flower-patterned dress, cute sandals and a strawy hat with its big brim sitting a little askew on her head, while Aveline kisses her fiancé goodbye and comes after Merrill, as always dressed practically in jeans and t-shirt. Her red hair is tied into a ponytail and glints in the sun and when she smiles, all the freckles on her nose and cheeks smile with her. 

“Took you long enough,” She says and there is faint annoyance in her voice, but also that strange, loyal fondness she has for Hawke despite him having nothing in his life under control, much unlike herself. 

“Yeah, well,” Hawke says with a sheepish grin and Carver snorts in the background. Isabela whacks him lightly over the head for it.

“I made some sandwiches for all of us!” Merrill chirps and shows them a big basket before climbing next to Isabela and finding herself face-first in Isabela’s beautiful bosom rather fast.

“Kitten, you’re the one bright star in the world,” Isabela says. Beside them, Varric discreetly opens a new document on his phone.

&&&

“My back hurts,” Anders complains.

“Shut up,” Fenris mutters from his place beside Sirius, who happily licks the elf’s dark hand that never stops stroking him. “Nobody cares.”

“Yeah, well, nobody cares about you being here as well,” Anders says and stops stretching and moaning like an old man, almost knocking Carver in the face in the process. Not that Hawke would have complained. 

“Are you talking to yourself again, Anders?” Fenris asks sweetly and tilts his head when Anders whips his own head around so fast that Hawke can hear something snap and whinces. 

“Garrett, I’m hungry,” Bethany hastily interrupts before Anders can grab one of Merrill’s sandwiches and hurl it into Fenris’s face.  
“We have sandwiches,” Merrill says, uncomprehending. Varric sighs.

&&&

When they finally reach the castle Sebastian lives at, they have finished half of the sandwiches, Garrett has emptied two bottles of coke and is sweating like an elven whore in church. Carver has started to play a game on his phone that has impossibly annoying sounds. 

Of course, Sebastian has to look perfect as always. Garrett swallows and tries to look halfway decent when Sebastian leans in to kiss his cheeks, left, right, left, customary in Starkhaven, heart attack-inducing in the rest of the Free Marches when delivered to one stupid Garrett Hawke by Sebastian Vael. _Prince_ Sebastian Vael. Much could be said about Hawkes, but not that they had no ambitions at all. Well, except maybe Carver, who was content to join sports clubs and lay in his bed masturbating all day.

With Sebastian arriving, Fenris even graciously decides to slide into the fourth row next to him. Anders sends daggers in Sebastian’s general direction with his eyes. Everyone pretends not to notice, except Merrill, who _really_ does not notice.

&&&

“I have to get out of here,” Anders mutters a while later. He has gotten restless in the last hour, but by now, he is downright twitching and rubbing his hands against his--- well, for a lack of better term to describe what Anders is wearing-- hotpants in a way that strongly indicates that they are sweaty as hell.

Right. Claustrophobia. 

“I think it’s time for a break,” Hawke announces, taking the first available branch and driving along, “Let’s just see where this goes and take a rest, right? Shouldn’t we be close to that lake we wanted to stop at on the way anyways?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Fenris says with his usual dry humour and startles Sebastian into laughter, which is good because now Anders is too busy glaring at the prince to be afraid. 

&&&

They didn’t take the branch towards the lake.

Instead, one of the tires gives away with a noise that sounds like a very lout, very wet fart- which causes Hawke, Isabela and Anders to laugh hysterically, which in turn causes Aveline to sigh and roll her eyes. They all almost die, but thanks to Hawke’s impossibly masculine, impossibly toppable driving skills, nobody even gets a scratch, except Carver, who drops his phone and hits his head on the driving seat when he tries to get it from the floor. 

“A cemetary!” Merrill exclaims and unbuckles her belt to jump out of the car.

“Not yet needed,” Hawke says and glances at Sebastian to see if he is properly impressed, but then he is distracted by-- “Holy shit, that _is_ a cemetery. What the fuck.”

&&&

The positive news is, there is a village attached to the cemetery. The negative news is, they are pretty miffed to find a bunch of strangers with two wheels in their ancestor’s bones. 

The even more negative news is, Sebastian manages to get them help and even a tool kit and a new tire by flirting shamelessly with the first girl he finds.

“This is all your fault,” Fenris tells Anders while grumpily standing next to him in the sunlight instead of literally anywhere else. 

“My fault?” Anders explodes and kicks him. “Why the fuck is this _my_ fault?”

Sebastian has been gone for a suspiciously long time now, Hawke thinks and strains his eyes to be the first one to see him return. Considering his height, at least it is not a difficult task. Even Anders is smaller than Garrett and Anders is nothing but a mess of lanky and long body parts. 

“You and your itchiness were what let Hawke decide to take that street in the first place,” Fenris hisses and kicks back. Isabela, Varric and Bethany watch in mild interest when they start pulling each other’s hair and insulting their respective mothers both of them cannot remember anymore while Carver sits in the bus and sulks.

“Shouldn’t we interfere?” Bethany asks a little hesitantly, always being the sweet little girl with a heart of gold. 

Isabela, having a soft, unexpectedly motherly spot for sweet little girls that are Hawke’s sister, touches her shoulder. “No, darling. Better bet who’ll be winning. Varric and I will show you how to do it. We have a bet pot.”

Sebastian comes back with reddened lips, slightly disheveled hair and the tool kit. Aveline carries the tire behind him, lips pressed into a tight line and sweat glinting on her milky skin. Hawke feels a pang in his chest, not because of Aveline or her sweat, bites his own lips until they are as red and, dry as they are, crack a little.

“Some people buried here are older than three-hundred years!” Merrill yells at them from the other side of the cemetary.

“Here lies Garrett,” Hawke mutters to himself and goes to fetch her, “Because wanting to fuck a shiny prince he dared.”

&&&

Eventually, they find the lake, even though the sun is already slowly sinking. Anders, always being happiest when being freed from as many things dictated by society as possibly, including clothes, jumps out of the bus while it is still rolling, strips out of his shirt, his hotpants, his sandals, his--- for a lack of better term to describe what Anders is wearing- golden tanga and all but runs into the lake until he is deep enough for it to pool around his chest. Hawke notices Fenris watching the sun pour down onto Anders’s back, lovingly caressing the tattooed wings on his shoulder, the countless rings on his fingers and the single golden one in his ear and grins when Fenris catches him.

Fenris flushes and looks away, scowling, before climbing out of the bus and sitting down in the grass with a sour expression. 

Isabela drags Merrill with her into the water while Aveline walks away to call Wesley. Hawle can hear her voice that always softens when she talks to her lover behind the trees and catches whisps of her red hair every now and then. Surprisingly, Aveline is someone who loves walking around while being on the phone. 

Hawke sighs and considers joining Isabela and Merrill, who apparently try to drown Anders in that very moment, but Sebastian is not even trying to get into the water, so, stupid idiot that he is, he flops down beside him in the grass with the grace of a dying whale on the beach. 

“I need fucking WIFI,” Carver mutters in the distance; Hawke thinks Bethany is something replying, but he honestly does not care. Instead, he smiles charmingly at Sebastian and waggles his brows with all of the charme that is his father’s legacy. “So. What’re you doing?”

“We should try to make some fire,” Sebastian replies.

“Oh, I am very, very good at enflaming,” Hawke says and grins.

&&&

It turns out that Sebastian actually meant making actual fire.

It also turns out that Hawke has no fucking clue how to make fire. 

“Well,” Sebastian says and calmly rubs one now quite singed brow. “It appears that we now have one tent less.”

“That’s okay,” Hawke says and rubs his burnt chest hair. “Fenris and Anders can share.”

“What?!” Fenris and Anders scream at the same time from two different places. It is rather admirable. 

“You know, for makin sure, I should get into a tent with Merrill as well,” Isabela says and smiles when Carver snorts. “Then Carver can have one of his own. Sharing with his one, true love only, I mean.”

“You mean his right hand?” Hawke asks and feels a little better when Carver splutters like a broken engine and stomps away.

&&&

“Garrett,” Bethany whispers and crouches next to him. Without thinking, he reaches for her hair and unties her braid, only to make a better one right away. “Can I sleep at your tent? I think I heard some noise in the dark before, down there at the forest. A bear, maybe.”

“Or Sebastian fucking a tree, because that’s more likely than him fucking me, apparently,” Garrett mutters unter his breath. “It was probably only Anders and Fenris, Bethy,” is what he says out loud.

“I am sitting right next to you, asshole,” Anders says and pokes him with a marshmallow. “What would I do with that one in the forest, anyways?”

“I’d definitely try to strangle you and get rid of your hairy body as quietly as possible,” Fenris says smugly from the other side of the fire. 

“No murder while I am present,” Aveline says. 

&&&

“So,” Varric says, “We have marshmallows and sandwiches and that is literally our only food?”

“I thought Anders would pack some,” Fenris says and glares at Anders, “But clearly I was too enthusiastc to hope he would actually manage to accomplish such a simple task.”

“And I thought Fenris would bring some, but I forgot that he doesn’t even have a fridge,” Anders says and glares back. 

“Oh my God, I forgot the bags!” Bethany exclaims and covers her face with both hands. “Mom gave us so much food and I just left the bags in her kitchen!”

“Thank God,” Carver and Hawke say at once and glance at each other uneasily because of their agreement. 

“I’ll go hunt something,” Fenris says and stands up to disappear into the woods, knife in his hands and a certain glint in his eyes.

“Don’t you _dare_ kill an innocent being and slap it on my dinner table!” Anders yells and stumbles after him.

“There we go,” Isabela says and grins smugly.

“We don’t even _have_ a dinner table here,” Carver says grumpily. “We don’t even have WIFI.”

“For fuck’s sake, Carver,” Aveline says with unusual obscenity and thus speaks from the bottom of Hawke’s heart. 

&&&

The truth is, this should have been Garrett’s and father’s trip. _What is better to celebrate you growing up than a road trip?_ , father told him, dark eyes twinkling with mirth.

Garrett does not feel much like an adult. He strokes the cowl of the bus, looks up into the night sky and sighs. 

&&&

Merrill looks up into the night sky and sighs. She knows how to read the stars since she was two years old, barely fit enough to stand on her own legs without stumbling over them. She has always been a child of the tribe she was born into, not so much only the child of her parents.

She hums a little, follows Orion’s belt and hops along his shoulders until she crashes into Isabela. “Oh, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be, kitten,” Isabela laughs and holds her in her dark arms, heavy gold jewelry jingling with every movement. Everything about Isabela is life, is motion; she is like the ocean, like the storm, smooth hair like dark, polished wood and a steady, strong heartbeat. Nothing about Isabela is ever shy and hesitant. Isabela takes what she wants and leaves nothing back.

It is admirable, really. Merrill cannot even catch the stars, much less the storm.

&&&

 

Garrett slumps down beside Aveline, who is getting ready for, well, retreating into the tent and is already in a big shirt that can only belong to Wesley. 

“How long until you’ll go?” he asks and there are faint, pinched lines around her mouth for a moment until they smooth out. 

“We’re supposed to ship out in two months,” she says, even though she knows that Hawke knows quite well when she is leaving for the army. Pretending not to know, not to care eases the pain of not having her around when something stands aflame. 

“Don’t worry,” Aveline adds and by not it is a ritual of sorts, “I’ll be back soon, with no harm done, and Wesley as well. Until then, you’ll be fine on your own.”

“Maybe even more so without you nagging me for everything,” Garrett says and softly touches her hands. He loves her like a sister and he is scared to fall apart. 

&&&

“I hate this,” Anders says in the dark. Fenris wants to hit him with something solid and heavy, just to knock some teeth out and make him shut up, no serious injuries.

“Shut up and sleep,” he says instead because it is Anders and arguing is fruitless at this point. His ears twitch when Anders rolls around for the hundreth time and drives him insane with his sighs. “What’s wrong, idiot human?”

“It’s hot and this tent is tiny and you smell like fish.”

“I do _not_ smell like fish!” Fenris splutters and hits Anders in his stupid laughing face with one foot. Anders catches it and tries to yank on it, but Fenris is stronger than him even on his weakest days and so they scramble around, tent shaking, until Aveline yells, “For the love of Christ, at least be quiet if you have to soil the tent I borrowed you!”  
For a moment, they lie there quiet, breaths mingling, until Anders suddenly kisses him, hands tangled in his hair and body heavy on his own.

Sometimes Fenris thinks everything would be easier if Anders was just a little less tender with his body. 

&&&

Merrill really does not want to pry and she really is no voyeur, but the tent is pretty much open and she stands there, a little numbly, and watches Anders’s and Fenris’s shadows mingle with each other, rough breath and quiet murmurs, not quite soft, but far from the agressive insults they throw at each other during the day. 

She remembers a story the Keeper used to tell her, about the sun and the moon being in love, only able to meet every once in a while in the utter darkness of the universe so that they pretended to hate each other to make it more bearable.

“Okay?” she can hear Anders say and Fenris answers something in return, anything, quietly and roughly, digging his fingers into Anders’s shadow.

Merrill’s heart feels tight and she has to take a deep breath before she can go on to her own tent. Sometimes she thinks that life will break her, not with the big drama, but with the little catastrophies. 

&&&

Isabela likes men, but she can only ever love women. 

It is something she had to learn the hard way and maybe there will come a time again where a guy can win her whole being, but for now, things are what they are and Isabela is not one trying to label what is going on in her heart. 

It makes her afraid, love. The whole concept is frightening and turns into chains made of gold all too soon if one is not careful. 

Still, she smiles at Merrill and lifts a hand to trail her fingers along Merrill’s facial tattoos. The girl flushes, barely above a giggle, and her ears twitch with interest. Elves are beautiful creatures, Isabela thinks, and she can’t help but love beauty. 

“Wanna go swimming?” she asks and Merrill smiles shyly, in a way Isabela never could express insecurity, does not dare to. It is easier, this way, but truly admirable is Merrill, who never hides what she feels, who cries when she is sad, and yells when she is angry, who hugs others when she feels a wave of affection or loneliness and has only ever not mastered one art: ruthlessness. Instead, she yields like water, molds and bends and flows and is stronger than them all because nothing ever defeats water. 

“I don’t have a bathing suit,” Merrill answers, tiny elven feet in the water and dress bunched around her hips. Isabela wants to slide it up even more, feel the smoothness of Merrill’s thigh, find the spot that makes her hitch, tongue pressing against her clit and taking those lovely, sweet little breasts in her hands. She wants to make her twitch and twist and turn.

Instead, she winks and says, “Ever heard of skinny dipping?”

&&&

Maybe it was not very responsible to get drunk with his siblings from wine he stole from Fenris’s box of wine. Mother would definitely disapprove. Then again, Garrett does not really care right now.

“I walk a lonely road,” he hums and looks up into the sky. The fire is crackling beside him and all he can think of is that Sebastian’s hands touched the log, lit that fire, feeding it and nurturing it. “The only road that I have ever known.”

“Pathetic,” Carver says and takes another swig. “You’re always so pathetic, brother.”

“I want to suck his cock,” Bethany sighs, which startles both their brothers out of their drunken haze.

“You’re _not_ sucking Sebastian’s cock,” Garrett says with vehemence because that was what he thought of first, while Carver yells at the same time, “You’re my twin and my sister and I don’t want to hear this!”

“Not Sebastian’s cock,” Bethany says and rolls her eyes, pauses and adds, “You have a serious problem, Gare-bear.”

“I know,” Garrett sighs, lies down on the grass again and tries to find the north star, wondering how they only talk about these things when all of them are drunk. Then again, he is too busy wishing for Sebastian to be his first with a burning passion, so it does not really matter. 

“I think Anders is off-limits for you, Sunshine,” Varric says from the trunk he is sitting on. Good, old Varric; he and Garrett have known each other for ages now, almost as long as Garrett and Aveline have known each other and Varric kows- well, everything, knows all of their hearts, probably better than he knows his own. 

“I bet he has an enormous cock,” Bethany says and sighs.

“If I have to hear you say that word one more time, I’m gonna puke,” Carver says.

&&&

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be on this road,” Aveline says the next day, frowning at the map. “There shouldn’t even _be_ a road on this part of the way.”

“Awesome,” Hawke says along with Isabela and adds, “Let’s drive until the end of it!”

“The last time we followed an ominous road, we landed on a cemetery,” Aveline reminds them. 

“This is an adventure, Aveline, stories will be written,” Varric says and Aveline presses her lips together because somehow it stings, being the only one not having a nickname. This is just her, she supposes; she has always been the girl who did not quite fit in, always a little too loud and too big and never pretty enough or interesting enough. There are no stories written about Aveline, or at least not this one. 

She touches the medaillon around her neck, the one Wesley gave her with her namesake on it, and wonders if Ser Aveline sometimes did not feel good enough as well. Beside her, Hawke chuckles, dark stubble on his chin moving with every breath he takes. Hawke is a bear of a man already, tall and big and strong and yet the sweetest idiot Aveline has ever known. 

Sebastian does not deserve his crush, not with the way he looks at Merrill’s legs, watches Bethany’s curves and stares at Isabela’s breasts. He never looks at Aveline with anything else than friendly interest. Nobody can say that he is not chivalrous and he knows she is a happily kept woman, so it is probably just that, but it still stings in the part of Aveline that is still that little girl who got pulled on her hair and called names.

“We’ll stay on our course,” she says, because that is what she always does.

&&&

“You’re such an asshole, it is unbelievable,” Anders says.

Fenris stares at him and blows the smoke from the cigarette dangling between his lips directly into Anders’s face, smirking when he coughs along with Carver. 

Sometimes Anders wonders why he even bothers. Maybe because it is easy; he can pretend he is not so far gone for Fenris than he is, that this is something light, no strings attached, that he would not even cry if Fenris was dead or gone. 

Fenris probably will never know.

He plucks the cigarette from Fenris’s mouth, resists the desire to close his lips around it and chase after a gentle kiss he will probably never get in the light of day. Instead, he throws it out of the window without a second thought. 

&&&

Sirius whines and howls and whimpers louder than Anders being fucked from two ends, so Hawke is forced to make a break in the tiniest village he has ever seen. 

Of course, no village can be small enough that Sebastian does not find a pretty girl to flirt with him. Hawke sighs, looks down on his body a body he is actually quite smitten with- and tries not to wish for Bethany’s body.

“Garrett!” Bethany wails at him from the bus, “Garrett, Carver nailed my braid on the seat!”

&&&

 

Fenris laughs when Anders gets run over by the enthusiastic Mabari, laughs even more when Anders falls face-first into the mud and makes an unmanly noise in the process. God, but that human is so stupid. It is a miracle that he has not killed himself yet in his gracelessness.

Anders sits up, shoving the dog away with one hand and wiping his hand on a clean bit of his shirt. His hair, a little too long by now and thus tumbling over his shoulders like the hair of a princess, glints in the sun and suddenly Fenris finds his mouth dry and his heart beating a little too fast.

He always tries to chase the sun in Anders’s hair when he touches him at night. He never succeeds, yet he finds something else when he holds Anders down and pushes into him, fnds the salt on his skin and the sweat in his brow, the incredible softness of his lips and the gentleness of his hands. They are both so fucked up, Fenris thinks and whistles the dog to his side so Anders can stand up. 

Their eyes meet for a second before Anders looks away with a twist of his lips, walks away to the bus to change. Fenris finds himself looking after him, suddenly jealous of the easy smile Anders rewards Bethany with when she helps him getting his bag. 

&&&

“Smile!” Hawke says and holds up the camera. Merrill looks up and laughs at him, green eyes glinting under the hat that is slightly too big for her while Aveline, beautiful in her own, unique way, throws him a small smile. “What are you ladies doing here?” 

“I found a stone that reminds me of Aveline,” Merrill says and holds up a small, red stone. “I wanted to show her.”

Carver walks by and snorts. Hawke whacks him on the head.

&&&

“What’s it like?” Merrill asks her when Isabela can already smell the sea and closes her eyes to chase after ghosts of memories. 

“What are you talking about, Darling?” she asks and when Merrill smiles up at her, something in her chest aches. It is so easy to extend a hand and brush aside one of Merrill’s bangs; Merrill leans into her touch like a kitten starved for affection and Isabela finds herself giving, and giving, and giving, for once expecting nothing in return. 

“The sea. I’ve never been to the sea. What’s it like?”

“Endless,” Isabela says and smiles. From the corner of her eye, she can see Fenris listen, but she does not mind nor care. “Full of treasures and stories and possibilities, monsters and Gods and lucky chances and unfortunate occurences. Nothing is quite like the sea. No man could ever tame the sea.”

“What about a woman, then?” Merrill asks and looks at her with eyes too wise for this life and the next. Isabela laughs because that’s what she always does when it gets too serious, too close, but it is already too late and she can feel it. Merrill is already under her skin, deeper than anyone before, and Isabela is afraid. It creeps slowly along her bones, the fear that she cannot sail away from this, outsmart this, the fear that she does not _want_ to.

Nobody can ever tame the sea, but some learn to weather the storms, after all.

“Clever kitten,” Isabela laughs and kisses Merrill’s forehead. Maybe, she thinks, maybe Merrill would sail away with her.

&&&

It should have been his and father’s vacation.

“We have to wait until you’re at the right age for all the fun stuff,” Malcolm always used to say, eyes twinkling with mirth, especially when Leandra smacked him over his head and told him not to _corrupt our son, Malcolm, honestly_. So they waited and pimped the bus instead, for the big trip in a few years, they always said, and then it was too late, Malcolm Hawke, this figure larger than life, in the end reduced to a shadow that, too, faded away like smoke in the wind. 

Maybe this trip is for his father. Maybe his father is with him all the way along the coast, is in the wind blowing through the open window, tousling Garrett’s hair and grabbing for Bethany’s clothes, kissing Carver gently, like an apology, before leaving again.

It does not matter. In a way, Garrett thinks and climbs out of the car when there is nothing but the sea surrounding them and he could not possibly go further, only back, he is here with his family. Granted, it is a quite dysfunctional family, a family young enough to struggle with problems the way only young people struggle with problems, and maybe he does them no justice, but by God, he tries. 

“It’s all that matters,” Garrett tells Sirius, smiling when the big dog just huffs in excitement and presses his head in his hand. Together, they admire the sea until Isabela breaks the moment by flinging off her top and jumping into the sea with rambunctious laughter. Few by few, everyone follows her: Carver, who drags Bethany with him, attached to her like he has always been attached to her. Aveline, with her gentle smile on the face of a warrior and sun-kissed freckles on her nose. Fenris and Anders follow, walking close and snarling at each other, fingertips touching just so in incredible gentleness. Merrill, jumping from one big rock to the next until finally handing herself over to the sea and into Isabela’s outstretched arms with all the grace of the elven people. Sebastian, radiant and laughing and already half-naked; Garrett’s heart aches, but maybe that is how it is supposed to be. After all, nobody should touch the sun. 

Only Varric is left, cocking his head and smiling at Garrett, patient and present like he always is, comforting mereley by existing. “Are you coming?” he asks and Garrett nods, smiling when his friends shout for him. 

In the end, he thinks while he pulls his shirt over his head, there will be only pictures left of them- thousands and thousands of pictures capturing moments soon forgotten. Maybe this is how it should be, sloppy seconds upon sloppy seconds filled with life on this endless journey.

Maybe, he thinks and jumps into the water, Malcolm still smiles at him somewhere.


End file.
